


Satin Doll

by herecomesbucktofuckshitup



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Character Study, F/M, Gender Identity, Genderqueer Bucky Barnes, M/M, Multi, Non-binary character, Steve and Bucky Love Each Other So Damn Much, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-18
Updated: 2017-09-18
Packaged: 2018-12-31 01:50:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12121929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/herecomesbucktofuckshitup/pseuds/herecomesbucktofuckshitup
Summary: “Would it bother you if I was a gal?”





	Satin Doll

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Duke Ellington's [Satin Doll](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TrytKuC3Z_o)
> 
> (also, I'm nb myself, so don't worry about a cis person writing this)

Steve stood at the counter, drumming his fingers nervously against the wood. He’s sure the saleswoman is judging him, sure that she’s judging  _ Bucky _ , even though Bucky wasn’t there. The woman took in Steve’s red face, the size 20 evening dress, the french knickers, the girdle, the bra, and the garter belt, all in the biggest sizes possible. She looks down at the massive kitten heels, then back up at Steve’s skinny frame, as if judging how such a small man could be with such a large woman. 

“You got a hefty gal, huh?” She finally asked, ringing up his purchases. Steve smiled nervously and nodded. 

“She’s certainly a handful.” Steve answered, trying not to blush furiously. He had that feeling in his stomach that he always did when talking about Bucky in this way. It wasn’t quite embarrassment, but it wasn’t quite arousal either. 

He’d gotten a full time position drawing propaganda posters for one of the factories, and it was more money than he had owned in his entire life. He had wanted to do something nice for Bucky, because, well. Because Bucky deserves nice things. He worked back-breaking hours at the docks, supported Steve when he was laid up in bed, and had gotten Steve the job through a favor with the factory’s foreman. All of this while keeping up the apartment and having dinner on the table each night. 

Steve winced at the $13.47 that the clothes cost him, but handed over the money. He carried the shopping bag down the streets, becoming more worried as he got closer to his neighbourhood, gripping the bag tightly so no one tried to run off with it. 

He finally got to the apartment, shutting the door behind himself with a huff. He put down the bag and hung up his coat. 

“Bucky?” He called out, heading into the living room. “Buck?”   


Bucky was collapsed on the couch, an arm thrown over his face. He looked exhausted. Steve walked over and started unlacing Bucky’s ridiculous worker’s boots. He pried the boots off Bucky’s feet, muttering to himself about shoes on the furniture. He dropped them on the floor and lifted Bucky’s legs, sitting down and placing them in his lap, squeezing Bucky’s ankles. Bucky made a happy noise in his sleep, rubbing his face against the couch cushion.  

Steve sighed and relaxed into the lumpy couch, picturing Bucky wearing his gifts. He drifted off thinking of Bucky’s legs in stockings.

 

-

 

It started like this: Bucky and Steve had been 13 and on their own. This wasn’t uncommon for them. Bucky’s dad was always at the factory and Steve’s mom was always at the hospital. Becca was 16 and never home any more. Bucky was at Steve’s apartment and Steve was proudly showing off his new set of paints. They spent all night talking excitedly about Steve’s upcoming art class and about the latest Dodgers game. They had heated up some leftover stew and listened to the radio plays that they usually weren’t allowed to hear. Steve had gone to bed early and Bucky had crawled in beside him. 

Around midnight, Steve had felt the bed shift, felt Bucky leave his side. The warmth along his back had disappeared and Steve woke up. He wandered down his hallway, looking for Bucky. He found him in the living room, with red painted to his lips. He was holding Steve’s paint brush carefully, applying the red color to his fingernails. 

“Buck, what’re ya doing?” Steve muttered, rubbing at his eyes. 

Bucky had yelped and dropped the brush, turning to look at Steve with shame written on his face. 

Steve had blinked at Bucky, at the color on his lips and his nails, and thought plainly,  _ “pretty”. _

Bucky was talking quickly, saying something with a frantic tone; but Steve could only watch the movements of his mouth, bright red and captivating. 

“‘M not a queer, I swear, Stevie. I was just-just testing it out was all, making sure it worked fine. I know that you don't see colors so good so I just wanted to see- look, don't tell my pa, alright? He’d kill me if he thought I was some sorta invert.”  

Steve knelt down by Bucky’s side and reached for his face. Bucky flinched at the motion, but froze as Steve’s fingertips touched his cheek. His thumb brushed over Bucky’s red lips, and the paint smeared on Bucky’s skin and Steve’s fingers. 

“Steve?” Bucky whispered, voice wavering. There were tears still on his cheeks and Steve reached up and knuckled them away. 

“I-” Steve started, and rubbed his thumb over his fingertips, wiping the paint from his skin. “It looks good, I think.” 

“What?” Bucky asked, sounding broken and confused. 

“Wait here,” Steve whispered, then ran off to the bathroom. He grabbed his mother’s makeup bag and, after some thought, he ran into his room and grabbed his sketchbook and one of his charcoal pencils. He came back to Bucky, who was still sitting on the living room floor, paint smeared on his lips and chin.  

Steve kneeled next to him and took out one of the wipes he knew his mother kept and handed it to Bucky. Bucky started wiping at his face vigorously, almost angrily. He scrubbed at his mouth as if he wanted his lips to fall off. Steve took the towelette from him and gently cleaned away the spots Bucky at missed, then folded the wipe and put it to the side. 

He reached into the bag and pulled out the old tube of lipstick. His mother hardly wore it these days, only ever taking it out on special occasions. Steve was sure that she would understand that this was important. 

He twisted the dial on the bottom just enough so that red was peeking out from under the lid. Steve rubbed it with his finger, getting the waxy red on the tip of his index finger. He reached over and dabbed at Bucky bottom lip. Steve, like the artist he was, did this with the utmost precision, sticking his tongue out of the corner of his mouth in concentration. Once done, Steve made “mwah” motions with his lips, prompting Bucky to follow his lead. Bucky frowned and rubbed his top and bottom lip to together like Steve had. 

Steve grinned and Bucky tentatively smiled back. Steve rubbed his fingertips together, then used the leftover lipstick on his fingers as rouge, rubbing them over Bucky’s cheekbones. 

“You’re good at this,” Bucky whispered, meeting Steve’s eyes for the first time that night. 

“I’ve watched my ma do it like a hundred times.” Steve said, rubbing his thumb firmly over Bucky’s cheek, trying to get the color to blend. 

Bucky wouldn’t let Steve near his eyes with the khol stick, saying that Steve might just put out Bucky’s eyes with it. Steve sighed and handed Bucky the compact. 

Bucky looked at his reflection and his breath hitched. 

 

-

 

“Mmpf,” Bucky muttered, and stretched, waking Steve in the process. Steve groaned, rubbing at the crick in his neck. 

“What time’ist?” Bucky asked, poking Steve in the gut with his socked foot. 

“I dunno,” Steve said, then yawned. “You made me fall asleep.”

“Oh, I made you, huh?” Bucky said pulling himself up to sitting position and squeezing the back of Steve’s neck, working out the ache with skilled fingers. 

“Mm, there.” Steve moaned under Bucky’s ministrations. He always seemed to know how sooth Steve’s tired muscles. “You were all warm and soft-looking. How was I supposed to resist?"

“That's, me. Unresistable.” Bucky purred, nuzzling his face against Steve’s jaw and pressing a kiss to his throat. 

“I got you somethin’.” Steve said, wrapping a finger around one of Bucky’s curls. 

“Yeah?” Bucky asked, and Steve could feel his smile against his skin. 

“Yeah.” Steve told him. “They gave me a bonus at the factory, so I got you a present.”

Bucky pulled back, face drawn. “Steve, you didn't have to spend money on me. You could've saved it for the next time you get sick.”

“I wanted to get you something.” Steve said, feeling flustered. “And it's no skin, not really. Just- just open it, please?” He pushed the bag into Bucky’s hands. Bucky eyed Steve. 

“What’re you blushing for, huh?” 

“Buuuuck,” Steve whined, covering his face. “Just- would ya just open it already?” 

He could hear the crinkle of the bag and Bucky’s small gasp. “Stevie-” He said, sounding choked. Bucky grabbed Steve into a crushing hug, pulling him into his lap. He kissed Steve’s forehead, his cheek, his chin, his nose, his eyebrow. “I. Love. You. So. Damn. Much.” He said between kissed, and Steve giggled, winding his fingers in Bucky’s hair. 

“I thought you should have somethin’ nice to wear.” Steve said, tipping Bucky’s chin up so his could kiss him on the lips. 

“For what?” Bucky asked, brow furrowing. 

Steve reached into his back pocket, pulling out a small velvet box.

 

-

 

He had asked Bucky once if he wanted to be a dame and Bucky had shrugged, looking at Steve from under his eyelashes. “Would it bother you if I was a gal?” 

Steve had chuckled and shaken his head. “I doubt the other girls would much appreciate the competition, but I would mind.”

Bucky smiled at that and tucked too-short hair behind his ear. He was always doing that, like he expected it to be longer. 

“I don't want to be a boy or a girl. I don't wanna be much of anything, to tell you the truth. I'm just...me. Just Bucky.”  Bucky had looked up after that, as if expecting to be told off or laughed at, but Steve had just smiled. 

“I like Just Bucky.” Steve said, and leaned over to press a kiss to the corner of Bucky’s mouth.

 

-

The wedding wasn’t really much of a ceremony. Bucky stood in his dress, all prettied up, and Steve stood in the suit he had gotten for his ma’s funeral. They stood, just the two of them before God, and made their vows. 

They made love as man and wife, and it felt as if it was the very first time.

Afterwards, they laid together, collapsed on top of each other. Steve ran his hand over Bucky’s face, clearing away the smeared makeup on his skin.

“I love you, Bucky.” Steve sighed.

“I love you, too.” Bucky said, smiling. “You’re the best thing to ever happen to me, you know that?” 

“Yeah, I know.” Steve told him cheekily. Bucky rolled his eyes and bit the meat of Steve’s shoulder in retaliation. Steve ran his fingers through Bucky’s hair and grinned at him. “I wanna stay here forever.” 

“Me too.” Bucky said.

-

 

Bucky's enlistment letter came in the mail the next day.

 


End file.
